I had to sneeze again, both noses coated with the stuff. Why did these creatures never clean up after themselves? Most dust was dead skin. Ugh – nobody civilized would do stand for it. Dracons stuffed their old scales into the backs of their caves, sure, but those were magical. It was a way to protect home. For that matter, dracons could make a good living trading off old scales. Some did. Still, not even trolls kept their flaky bits around. It wasn’t hygienic.

I sniffed a bit as my nose began running. More dust. Some

creaturekind got all the luck – dark-scaled, good tail-reach, able to create magical allergies, and the ability to make everyone forget just why they should be mad at you. Lucky Bernice. I despised him for it.

I’d taken the bed, but only because the closet was too full. Shadows were also available, but the bed had better cover. It wouldn’t be an issue at all if Bernice could control his gift better. I’d worry about his tampering with my memory later – granting allergies before a scare